Cupid's Still Stupid
by Nymbis
Summary: Ross is back again, and the Daughters of the Moon face something more intimidating than the Atrox itself. True love. Somewhat sequel to Cupid’s Stupid, crack pairings galore. Runner Up Best Multichaptered Comedy, DotM FF Awards 08!
1. Prologue

**Cupid's Still Stupid **

**AN **For **StarWars-Freak**, and anyone else that liked _Cupid's Stupid _: ) You don't really have to read it to understand this, but it may reduce the WTF?! Factor a bit. Set before book thirteen. Have a happy Valentine's Day everyone! Main pairing is Jimena x Lambert, with lots and lots of absolutely batshit insane side pairings that includes but is not limited to: Vanessa x Karyl, Kendra x Malcolm, Serena x Derek, Zahi x Catty, and Aura x Michael.

---

Love is a wonderful thing. It can brighten someone's day, filling them with an abstract sort of warmth that restores a beautiful glow to the people who find it. It is a sense of completion, of nurturing, of genuine happiness.

True love, however, is a whole 'nother can of worms.

True love is awkward. It's annoying, it's stuck in your head like an eighties pop ballad. It's not going anywhere anytime soon, and you better just shut the hell up and like it. True love in the wrong hands is a very, _very _dangerous weapon.

True love belongs to Aphrodite, the goddess of pleasant sparkly things. Aphrodite is a very _busy _(the most politically correct term for it, anyways) woman, and because of that, she sometimes shares (forces) the wonderful (excruciatingly awful) burden with her son, Eros (he goes by Ross now), a demi-god who is terribly cute and terribly not smart.

It's really not his fault, he tries his best.

His best just sucks sometimes.

The Daughters of the Moon were going to find themselves witnessing first hand just how terrible true love can be on Valentine's Day. And they thought Lambert was bad…

---

**Up Next: **Romance is always awkward. Romance with a Follower is downright creepy. Turns out Jimena has a secret admirer…


	2. And They Say Chivalry is Dead

_Cupid's Still Stupid_

**And They Say Chivalry is Dead…**

The box with a very shiny ribbon on it glistened in the morning rays of sunshine as it sat comfortably on top of a welcome mat outside of an apartment door. It seemed harmless: a plain, nondescript present that only stood out because it had a few air holes in the side and a tag that said _To: The Scary One, From: None of your damn business!_

Truly a romantic at heart had left it, that beautiful morning of February the fourteenth.

Not that Jimena noticed as she flung the door to her apartment open, swearing up a storm and stomping all over the box in her rush to get to school on time. Jimena didn't know what day it was, well she knew it was _a _day, just not _the _day, seeing that she was very busy saving the world, saving her adrenaline junky boyfriend, and maintaining a halfway decent grade point average so her _abuela _wouldn't beat her ass when she came home.

There was a tiny squeak from the box, but Jimena didn't notice as she bolted down the hallway and to the stairwell.

As soon as she had disappeared, a mysterious figure who most certainly was _not _lurking about because he had insecurity issues and the hots for a very _scary _girl rushed over to the box. "Muffin!" Cried a man's voice as he pried off the lid.

Inside was a very adorable, very dead, love kitten.

"MUFFIN!" He screeched, a hand over his chest. "She-she _killed _you! A baby kitten!" He exhaled slowly, eyelids fluttering shut in deep contemplation. "We're soul mates." He said with absolutely no room for debate.

Things were not going to go well for Jimena that day.

---

"Hey, watch where you're going you sonuvabitch!" Snarled a cyclist as the rode past a pedestrian walking a dog outside.

"The road's not yours, asswipe!" Retorted the dog walker angrily.

"What did you call me?" The cyclist halted her ride to glare at the man.

"I called you a good-for-nothing, head-up-their-ass, dirty-" There was a sound that cut off the man's tirade, hardly noticeable. It consisted of a childish giggle, a 'twang', and the random but impossibly distinct sound of a tiny, golden shaft flying through the air with a terrifying velocity. Said sound was completed with a rather satisfying 'thwunk!' as it reached its destination of an angry power jogger's tush, "-lovely, brilliant, where-have-you-been-all-my-life, woman!"

The cyclist fully halted in her path, watching the man with a bit of nervousness, "I have mace with me," she said warily, fingers flexing over a water bottle that was going to pretend to be pepper spray.

"Truly it's fate that we met here today!" The man cooed, dropping the dog's leash and skipping slightly over to the woman.

"Get away from me!" She hissed, brandishing the water bottle as her last defense, "I'll spray you!"

"Spray me all you want! I live for your happiness!"

"I'm calling the po-" Yet again, that _very _distinct sound was heard, and something pierced the woman in the butt, "-priest! We must get married **right now **despite me not even knowing your first name or if you have a steady income!"

"I agree wholeheartedly, person that almost ran me over with her bicycle!"

With that, the two grasped each other and power-jogged into the sunset of a February afternoon, leaving one very confused dog in their wake.

Ross whistled cheerily as he holstered his bow over his shoulder, a bounce in his step as he left the shrubbery he had been hiding in. It was his fav-or-ite day today! A day of love, warmth, and hitting perfectly innocent people in the ass with sharp objects!

"Yay!" Ross said with joy, not able to keep the enthusiasm inside of him.

Meet Eros. Eros is the son of Aphrodite, the Goddess of all pleasant and sparkly things. He just goes by Ross now though, because Eros sounds kind of silly. Ross is an adorable boy whose adorability is the only thing that has saved his life because Ross tends to do really dumb things. An example? The time he confused Serena and Stanton, true lovers that would bring peace between the Followers and the Daughters, with Jimena and Lambert, two people who held violent tendencies and the inability to solve things with words. Oh yeah, and Lambert had tried to kill Jimena and everyone she loves a few times too. Not really a healthy basis for a relationship. Hijinks had ensued, but eventually Ross was able (under much duress) to solve the problem, removing his arrow from the creepy, pale, evil incarnate. All was well. At least, they thought it was…

You see, some snags prevailed…

_Somewhere not far from there…_

Vanessa curled up against Karyl, some Barry White playing in the background as she fed him grapes with her teeth. His breath smelled odd, like English muffins and olive oil, but Vanessa didn't mind because she _was in love. _And love always prevails over funky breath. Michael sat sulking in the corner. He gave a large huff.

"What's wrong Michael?" Vanessa pouted, prying herself away from Karyl's terribly seductive gravitational pull.

Her boyfriend scowled, "You're making out with some creepy ass man! That's what's wrong!"

Karyl shrugged, "You can join in if you want."

Silence surrounded them as two jaws simultaneously dropped to the floor.

Karyl shrugged again, "What? He's a very nice looking young man."

Michael stood up abruptly and turned to leave.

"Call me!" Vanessa cried after him fruitlessly.

_Back to the park…_

But they weren't really _that _bad, and Ross was a big supporter of trying new things! He loved new things! Like different flavors of jelly. Or new comic books. His favorite was _Spiderman. _Something about sneaking from place to place clad in red spandex just appealed to him.

Besides, despite the weird things that had occurred, everything had turned out alright in the end. Jimena was back to being angry all the time, Vanessa and Karyl were probably going to breed very interesting children, and Lambert was back to being a hate-filled bastard who wanted to kill the Daughters of the Moon and most certainly _didn't _have a secretly repressed attraction to said angry girl that had bubbled to life due to a misplaced love arrow. That would be just plain silly. Ross knew not to acknowledge things that might be silly.

His wonderful flashback full of exposition was interrupted by his cell phone ringing, and he quickly answered it, knowing only one person knew the number.

"Mommy?"

"Eros, I have a job for you." Came a delightfully perky and hopelessly vapid voice from the other end, Ross heard tango music and a lot of manly laughter in the background.

Ross puffed his chest out, "Of course! What do you need?"

"There's a man who's in search for true love. His name is Ken Draw, I need you to set him up with his coworker, a history professor at the university named Dr. Mallory Combs, do you understand?"

Ross beamed, "Sure do!"

"Very good, Eros, now, Mommy has a _very _important meeting on a cruise line, so I won't be able to call for a few days-" the manly laughter increased, "-weeks, I meant weeks! So I need you to be a big boy and handle this all by yourself, understand?"

Ross nodded.

"Eros, honey, Mommy can't see you nod over the phone."

"Oh! Sorry, you can count on me!"

"Very good. Now, I have to go. I have an appointment with some daiquiris and cabana boys. Have fun!"

"Kay. Bye Mommy-"

The line went dead. Ross sighed , folding the phone back into his jean. Oh well, he could take care of this easily. All he had to do was find a doctor named Kendra and set her up with a university named Malcolm. Easy peasy!

With a new mission, Ross straightened his curly hair and strode off into a sunset that just kind of appeared wherever he went, physics and the space time continuum be damned.

---

**AN: **Sorry it's so short! It was going to be longer but I kind of broke three of my fingers in a freak grocery shopping incident, therefore typing isn't one of my most favorite things to do at the moment DX. Thanks for reading! Feel free to suggest any crack pairings you'd like to see : o) Really, I'll write anything.


	3. Stupid Sexy Zombie

**AN **sorry, long time no update )o: I will be better, promise!

**Chapter Two: Stupid Sexy Zombie**

Ross didn't understand why his new friend was so scared. He was curled up on the love seat (Ross's apartment only had love seats, and one super soft and extra snuggly pink bean bag chair) legs crossed and his back hunched over protectively. He wasn't _bad _looking, his face a bit craggy and his graying hair straggly in that avant-garde starving artist fashion, but there was just something about his appearance that made it seem as if something was missing.

Ross's fingers curled slightly as he assumed his adorable thinking pout. After a few moments, it hit him.

He walked across his apartment to his new friend, who recoiled slightly, "Got your nose!" Ross said playfully, pressing a very real human nose to a very nose-less face. Something gold flickered and the nose was absorbed.

The man stared back with suspicious eyes, "Who the hell are you?"

He waved, "My name's Ross. You're my new friend that I brought back from the dead!"

The man blinked, "What, why?"

Ross blinked too, "I was supposed to find a university named Malcolm, but that was too hard, so I decided to reanimate a corpse using nothing but the power of love instead."

The corpse who was no longer a corpse due to microscopic biological forces scientifically called 'warm fuzzies' scratched his head, "I don't follow you kid."

"Call me Ross! We're best friends now!"

"Okay. Ross, why did you need to bring me back from the dead? Hekate had it pretty squared away for me. Lots of cold beer-"

"Beer is bad for you!" Ross cut off, affronted.

Malcolm sighed heavily. "I was dead."

"Oh. Well I guess that's okay then. But you're not dead now, so no beer!"

Malcolm lowered his head.

"Anyways, you need to fall in love with a doctor named Kendra," Ross said matter-of-factly, wearing the big-boy toga.

Malcolm squinted his eyes, implying that his vision couldn't focus on stupid, "Love's…not really my thing." He grunted, "Maiming and torturing, _those _are my things."

"Well, being in love usually includes the other two," Ross compromised uneasily.

Malcolm stared at him, and a heavy, awkward silence stretched over the two. "Kid?"

Ross blinked, "Yes best friend?"

"You're alright."

"Thanks new best friend."

"But I'm not going to fall in love with anyone- hey, why're you laughing?!" Malcolm growled.

"You grownups and thinking you have a choice," Ross said between giggle fits. "You're so _silly._"

Malcolm sighed in aggravation. Stupid runt. "Whatever, one more question Ross."

"Hm?"

"Where are my pants?"

Ross rolled his eyes, "Don't be _silly, _dead people don't need pants."

"I'm not dead anymore, and I would very much like pants."

Ross blinked, owl-eyes in effect, "Oh. I suppose that would make sense."

--

He glared heavily at the object in his hand. It was simple looking, not very threatening, but it seemed to be the most deadly thing alive to him at the moment.

"Don't be stupid, Lambert," he said to himself under his breath, sitting under a large tree in some park, "Just call the number."

He then proceeded to have a conversation with himself. Out loud. In public.

"But what if she calls me a loser and hangs up?"

"Lambert, everyone calls you a loser. And just threaten her loved ones if she says she's going to hang up."

"But her saying it would really hurt my feelings!"

"Don't be such a mangy cur! You're an adult for chrissakes, not some whiny, emotional perma-teen like _Stanton _or something!"

"You know what self, you're right. I'm going to call her!"

"That's the spirit!"

"…tomorrow."

"NO! You have to attack when they least expect it, those Daughters of the Moon are slippery and tricky! Like evil salmon! That's how slippery!"

"You're right! I WON'T BE OUTCLASSED BY SALMON!"

With that, Lambert's fingers flew over the dial pad to his cellular phone. It was from the eighties. Clunky, with a huge ass antenna coming out of the top. Lambert was misinformed in thinking it was the most modern technology. He had gotten Jimena's cell number by emotionally harassing and threatening her grandmother into giving it to him. She was a tough old bird, but Lambert was nothing but resilient.

"_Give me your granddaughter's phone number!"_

_Jimena's abuela looked very confused, "Who are you?"_

"…_I'm, uh."_

"_And how did you get into the apartment without a key?"_

"_There was a spare under the dead kitten-"_

"_Burglar! ROBBER! **THEIF**!" Cried Jimena's grandmother, grabbing a wooden spoon and whacking Lambert with it._

"_What? No, that's - ow!- not it at all- hey, cut it out!- I'm in- DAMN IT YOU HAG STOP WITH THE SPOON!!"_

"_Get out, get out, get out!" Abuela screamed, really going to town with her culinary weapon, having a surprising amount of stamina and strength less accustomed to a little old lady and more suited for a pro wrestler. Lambert was tearing up with each hit. In a totally fearsome and diabolical way, of course._

"_FINE YOU WIN YOU OLD BIT-"_

_Abuela gasped._

"_-TER WOMAN!"_

_Abuela deflated slightly, as the robber in the black dress thing left quickly._

_Three hours later, when she was busy making some sort of cultural dish because women only cooked in their spare time, Lambert snuck in through the window and stole her address book._

The phone was ringing. Lambert bit his lower lip in nervousness.

Ring.

Sweat beaded down his pale, pasty forehead. This was it.

Ring.

Oh god, what if she didn't answer? What if she didn't want to talk to the man who had tried to kill her multiple times? What if she _disliked _him?

Ring.

WHY WOULDN'T SHE ANSWER?! WERE THE GODS OF LOVE AGAINST HIM? HAPPY TO TORMENT HIM FOR ALL OF ETER-

"Hello?" Came the voice of his angel, his dark ray of sunshine, the light of his life.

Lambert breathed heavily into the receiver.

"Hello?" She was a little more annoyed this time.

The heavy breathing grew louder.

"Who the fuck is this? Collin, I swear if you're pulling some dumb prank I'm going to kick that tight ass all the way to-"

Her words were poetry to his soul.

The way she used the f-bomb, the physical threats against him…

Wait.

Who the hell was Collin?

"Who the hell is Collin!" Lambert growled into the phone.

"What the hell are you talking about? Who is this?! Wait, is this-?"

Lambert paled, "Wrong number, wrong number!" He said with a fake British accent, throwing his huge cell phone across the park where it hit a jogger in the head, causing his dog and newly minted bicyclist wife to start making cries of concern.

Lambert cradled his head in his hands. So. The love of his life, not counting his wife, had a friend named Collin. Who had a tight ass. And liked to call her on her phone and breathe heavily into the receiver. Lambert was not cool with this.

He pulled out a notebook from his robe, and turned to a page.

**How to Snare the Angry One**

**1. Kitten of Love.**

**2. Small talk over the phone, avoid something called 'text message breakup'.**

**3. Don't kill her friends.**

**4. Yet.**

Taking out a quill and ink well, because Lambert was all about old school, he scribbled down a number five.

**5. Destroy Collin.**

He looked at the list, and nodded, apparently satisfied.

He never gave up easily.


	4. IDK, My BFF Adamantis?

**AN: **This (really late) chap's for StarWars-Freak, shine on you crazy diamond! :D

**IDK, My BFF Adamantis?**

Lambert's pouting could be felt from miles away as he entered his studio apartment, his eyebrows furrowed and his lower lip jutting out as he made his way to the sofa in a daze, gaze clearly not seeing anything but _despair. _There was a drawback to his carefully inept plan, which might lead to failure, and Lambert was never really the best at dealing with failure...

_A few months ago..._

"Lambert, please, stop!" Cried Tymmie in a voice with a very high octave as he dodged lamps, ceramics, mirrors, and some astonishingly heavy dining room tables that were being launched at him, "Anyone could have been defeated by a pretty boy and a seventeen year old girl who wears leopard skin pants-"

"LIES!! I AM INCONSOLABLE AND YOU SHALL PAY BY _DODGING!_" Bellowed a very distraught leader of Infidi as he continued to throw anything that wasn't nailed to the ground and _some things that were. _

"C'mon, Lambert, it's not that big of a deal-"

"_DODGE!" _

And all protests were rendered silent as a glass bowl filled with water, shiny blue pebble things, and a hopelessly doomed male beta fish connected with Tymmie's skull.

_Back to the present..._

"Whatever shall I do?" He mused out loud, cradling his head in his hands, "The love of my life besides my wife doesn't even know I exist!" He paused, then corrected himself, "Outside of my trying to destroy her and everyone she loves beyond all recognition...and even worse...she might have another stalker!"

Lambert sighed heavily, his head drooping down, "If only there was someone much more effective and intelligent than I who I could go to for advice..." He tapped a finger against his chin, "Yet, such a person would be nearly impossible to find, because, honestly who's more intelligent than _me?_" He winked and the silence in his apartment grew even more silenter.

"Who could I ask for love advice? Who is more depraved, hopeless, and impervious to romance than I? Hmm..."

And so, Lambert exercised that dusty old verb in the corner of his brain entitled 'thought'. And suddenly, it hit him like a lightning bolt that sent teens to their demise.

"I know just the person!"

oOo

_Outlook not so good._

Lambert paled, and shook the plastic black ball in his hands with more force, "You're supposed to support me in everything that I do!"

_Don't count on it._

He growled, "May I remind you who is the one in charge here?"

_Better not tell you now._

"Augh! Must you always be _so _bloody difficult?!" Lambert continued to argue with the Magic 8 Ball.

_It is decidedly so._

"Bitch," grumbled Lambert.

_You may rely on it._

Now, to an outside source, the conversation taking place may appear to be between a grown, slightly insane man and a cheap, outdated childrens' toy. However, an outsider would be sorely mistaken as the conversation was actually between a grown, slightly insane man and a cheap, outdated woman. How can this be, one might ask. Well, the answer is simple: due to a slight mixup at a Mattel toy factory, the potion used for Aura's soul transfer was accidentally inserted into a Magic 8 Ball instead of the really hot factory girl. Now, Lambert's one and only- besides the others- was limited for perhaps eternity to 20 generic responses. The lack of communication between the two had actually done wonders for their marriage.

He started rolling the ball again, but the triangular die kept landing on the edges, making it impossible to read the sides, "Oh, the silent treatment, eh? Way to be mature Ursula!" He tried to shake her into cooperation, but yet again it fell on the crease.

"You are absolutely no help at all!" Growled Lambert, tossing the Magic 8 Ball across the room where it collided with a banana plant that he had bought to spruce up the room. "I need a gentle, caring and considerate source to give me advice...but who? Who?" He tapped a finger across his lower lip, and after a moment.

"I've got it! My BFF Adamantis!"

oOo

"And then, I said to them, of course that's not a revivalist painting, it's an Escher!" Came the suave, sophisticated voice of one dashingly debonair Follower as he swirled the crystal goblet full of terrifically expensive red wine.

"Do ho ho," chortled the rest of the distinguished gentlemen that sat beside him in front of the fireplace, all of them smoking pipes or cigars, wearing red velvet bathrobes, and being all together pompous, classy, and holding egos the sizes of territorial provinces.

"Oh, Adamantis, you are _too _clever!" Came a fat Regulator, who's sole eye held a monocle in front of it.

"Truly, Mortimer is correct, your wit is as fathomless as an ocean." Came another.

"Oh come now," Adamantis said modestly, taking a sip of his very tasteful vintage, "We already knew that."

"Do ho ho!" The crowd chortled yet again.

"Adamantis, please, tell us about the time you charmed the Priestess of Serbia," requested a beautiful buxom blonde, who looked eerily similar to a former 1950s starlet...

"Ah, yes, well I was in between reading Kant and Ayn Rand when-" Adamantis's tale of bloated self importance was interupted when he ringtone was set off.

_I was going to go to class, but then I got high__  
__I could have cheated, and I could've passed__  
__But I was hi-iiiigh__  
__I'm taking it next semester, and I know why__  
__Because I was high, because-_

Adamantis grit his mother of pearl teeth as he remembered his insolent spawn fooling around on his phone during her bi monthly visit. "Speak, for this is Adamantis."

"Hey, it's me-"

Adamantis paled. Great. It was _that _guy.

"-and I really, really have a problem!"

"I don't care. I'm entertaining guests, leave me alone."

"But we're besties!"

"I don't recall entering into that arrangement."

"But it's really, really important! I'm in love!"

Adamantis scowled, "You're in love? How _guache._"

"Don't you use that pompous tone of voice with your BFF!"

The grade-A Follower groaned, "Well, what do you want me to do about it then?"

The grade-C Follower exhaled, "It's disgusting and crude and I absolutely can't kill it off with lightning like I do with my usual problems. I'm attracted to a Daughter of the Moon."

"Ugh, Forbidden Love? Really, Lambert, even _you _aren't that cliche."

"I know, it's tooth dissolvingly sweet and I must destroy it."

"It's as if you're stealing _Stanton's _routine or something."

Silence.

Adamantis rose a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, "Hello?"

"That was cold."

He exhaled, "I'm sorry. Stanton is pathetic and you are superior in all ways."

Lambert beamed on the other end of the phone, before remembering himself and his evil disposition, "I think this may require hands-on experience-"

"For Hades's sake, Lambert, she's still a minor-"

"Not in that way! It's just...you've always had a way with pure, impressionable jailbait and I figured this one should be dealt with The Professional." Lambert smirked, knowing that filling that hot air balloon of a head with more compliments would soon get Adamantis to bend to his will like soft, impressionable-

"No."

-what?!

"What?! Why not!" Lambert demanded.

"I don't feel like it, plus, Reginald and I were going to sail our yachts this evening."

"You can sail your yachts anytime! You can only see me make an ass of myself once!"

A suspicious silence on Adamantis's end.

Lambert frowned, "This is where you jump at this rare opportunity."

Adamantis coughed into his hand, "Of course. Rare. You making a complete fool of yourself is never, ever going to happen besides this moment."

"Are you being _sarcastic _with me?!"

"Of course not. I would never do that. Ever."

Lambert breathed a sigh of relief, "Well, good. So, you in?"

Adamantis stared at his manicured fingernails, "I suppose. I do like to associate with the commonwealth every once in a while, for posterity's sake."

"Wonderful, I think we need to start with the child who has a tight butt named Collin-"

Adamantis rolled his eyes as Lambert continued to prattle on, making a yakking motion with his free hand to the other members of his snooty club.

"Do ho ho!" They all laughed at Adamantis's ironclad patience.

"Fine, fine. Enough of your incessant chatter. I'll have one of my numerous servants that are a product of my great power and wealth take me by private helicopter to the roof of the art museum, and we shall meet there."

"And, I'll uh, have Tymmie call me a cab or something." Lambert said, shifting weight from foot to foot.

"I dread my arrival," Adamantis said, snapping the phone shut before turning, "My condolences, Reginald, looks like we'll have to ride the yachts next weekend."

A rather grotesque looking Regulator with a handle bar mustache lowered his head sadly.

oOo

Not a whole lot of romance in this chapter, but the next one, _oh _the next one...


	5. School of Seduction

_Cupid's Still Stupid_

**AN: **Hey everyone, be sure to vote for your favorite fics for the first annual DOTM awards :o) Round II begins January 17th! More information and nominees at the Writer's Forum.

**Chapter Four: School of Seduction**

A low wind billowed through Lambert's shoulder length white hair, causing it to wrap around his face mysteriously as he eyed the person in front of him intently. His eyes, crystalline blue and shining like the sky, smoldered with desire, as his lips pressed together firmly.

Quickly, Lambert grasped the forearm of his beloved, "My most beautiful star during the darkest night, I need you. My _soul _needs you. You are that sliver of hope that reminds me to dream in this dark, never ending nightmare of existence. Without you, I cannot fathom how to become a decent, nay, a complete man."

Across from him, Adamantis rolled his eyes, using his index finger and thumb to gently pry off Lambert's fingers from his forearm, "That's laying it a bit thick, don't you think?"

Almost instantly, the subtle, sensual mood evaporated and Lambert pouted, "I'm new at this, cut me some slack!"

Adamantis gave a very leaden sigh, "I find this entire thing absolutely hopeless. I'm beginning to think you have no sense of romance."

Lambert huffed, "Of _course _I have no sense of romance. I've spent the majority of my Immortal life striving to overtake the most evilest being on the planet as new overlord of shadows, and before then I was a caretaker of teenage boys."

Adamantis made a large show of clearing out earwax with his pinkie finger, "I'm sorry, I thought I heard some idiot blathering on about openly treasonous plots in the face of a loyal Incinti member."

Lambert coughed, "Yes. Well." He paused, "Yes."

Adamantis seemed to take a critical eye to Lambert's apartment, as if noticing it for the first time, "Please tell me you don't intend to woo the unfortunate recipient of your wanton desires here?"

Lambert glared, "What's wrong with my apartment?"

Adamantis gave a very droll tsk of disapproval, staring down Lambert's furnishings as if they had personally offended him. The carpet was this shag, orange monstrosity that obviously hadn't been updated since the 1970s, A Flock of Seagulls posters hung on _every single wall, _the sitting arrangements consisted of lawn chairs and a foldout sofa bed that was stuck in some sort of limbo where it could not function as either a sofa or a bed, and bowls upon bowls of half eaten spaghetti-o's hid what could have been a coffee table made of plywood and some stolen milk crates.

"No woman in her right state of mind would even consider this place to store their excrement," Adamantis said delicately.

Lambert frowned, offended, "My love nest swept Ursula right off her feet!"

"Ursula has all the taste and refinery of a cheap, drunken prostitute."

Lambert tried to defend against that statement, but as his mind recalled years and years of acrylic fingernails, porcelain plates with cats painted on, ten inch pumps, and a brief stint where she actually was a drunken, cheap prostitute, he felt himself only able to retort with a witty, "Nu-uh."

"Speaking of which, where is that insufferable harpy?" Adamantis said, not really caring, but having an astonishing sense of etiquette, "And what is her opinion on you attempting to…" he gave a frown of distaste, "_seduce _a Daughter of the Moon."

"She's on the end table," Lambert said flatly, "And for the love of all things inholy, don't shake her up."

Adamantis rose a delicate, plucked eyebrow, seeing only a rather childish toy on something that could barely qualify as an end table. Deciding that Lambert was a few sticks short of a bundle, he gave his long-suffering sigh, "I believe I'll pass, for I have much work to do if you have an ice cube's chance in hell of passing this off."

Lambert frowned, "You don't think I could seduce a Daughter? I could _so _seduce a Daughter!"

Adamantis said, very levelly, "I think that it requires a more delicate and suave approach then your standard knock them unconscious and drag them to your lair-"

"Aura was _semi_-conscious-!"

"And, I say this as a gentlemen, your grooming and physical features could most certainly be improved upon so your countenance no longer resembles a horse's ass."

Zing.

Lambert sighed, somewhat sadly, "You're the worst BFF ever, Adamantis."

---

Deep, beautiful violin music played in the background as a couple sat on the beach, candlelight glowing in the night as they enjoyed a romantic picnic dinner in the moonlight. They were celebrating their thirteenth book anniversary, as there really isn't a set time period for those sorts of things.

"Oh, Stanton," Serena said dreamily, leaning forward as Stanton fed her some grapes with his teeth.

"Oh, Serena," Stanton replied, although it was somewhat muffled as he passed the grape along.

"This is the most perfect night of my life," Serena said, basking in the glow of her pure, taintless love that would never, ever be altered or horribly destroyed.

"Every night you're beside me is the most perfect night of my life," Stanton crooned, his hand cupping her cheek tenderly as he enjoyed this wholly innocent, incorruptible moment that would certainly not end in mind-scarring disaster.

"_Oh, _Stanton," the telepathic Daughter said, batting her eyelashes and leaning in.

"_Oh, _me," Stanton agreed, also leaning in.

As the two star-crossed lovers went in for a kiss, something very, very peculiar happened.

First, there was the unmistakable sound of chimes. As they were at a very isolated (to set the romantic mood, not because Stanton was trying to get laid or anything) spot on the beach with no one around, that was kind of weird.

Second, there was a flash of _pink _light. Now, Stanton and Serena, being a Follower and an enemy of an entity that simply _loved _to make grand exits and entrances, were kind of used to random and seizure-inducing flashes of light, but _pink_…well pink was certainly different.

Third, Stanton's really hot girlfriend that he was about to lay some serious mackin' on was suddenly replaced with an old guy that wasn't wearing any pants.

"Stanton! Thank Hecate I found you-mmphff!" Cried a rather distraught ex-Regulator as he teleported in between the couple, only to be cut off by a devilishly handsome blond man's kiss.

"Oh, _ew,_" Serena said as she witnessed her boyfriend accidentally kissing an old guy. Great, just great. Even more trauma for the melodramatic prince, just when he _finally _got over his daddy issues after _eight hundred years. _Serena made sure no one was looking as she poured herself another glass of the red wine Stanton had brought.

Stanton quickly shoved the man away from him, "Who are you? What are you doing here? WHERE ARE YOUR PANTS?"

Stanton was in an uncomfortable place at the moment. He dealt with that by shouting.

The man blinked, somewhat in a daze as Stanton really was just that damn good at everything he did, including kissing pantsless men, "Er…"

Stanton paid him no heed, quickly scrubbing away at his mouth with a spare starfish he had found amidst the sands.

Serena just kept drinking.

"Malcolm!" He said at last, seeming to get his bearings, he shook Stanton by the shoulders, "It's me, Malcolm!"

Stanton blinked, slowly removing the starfish away from his mouth. The starfish was now in a daze as well, "Who?"

Malcolm groaned, he _always _got this reaction from people, "Malcolm! Grotesque Regulator that went against his cardinal beliefs in order to give you a warning about Lambert?"

Stanton just stared.

Malcolm grit his teeth, "How could you not remember me? I gave you a ring!"

Serena gave a cry that sounded similar to 'Not another one!' before she tossed back the rest of her glass and reached for the bottle.

Finally, clarity seemed to dawn upon Stanton's features, as if a bright light of realization had been lit-

"Oh, _gross._ I just made out with a Regulator!"

Malcolm, seeing as words were not getting him anywhere, promptly backhanded Stanton across the face, "Snap out of it! I need your help!"

Stanton rubbed his cheek, his face was taking a lot of beating today…but suddenly, he remembered, "_Oh,_ Malcolm!"

Malcolm smiled, "Great, you remember-"

And was promptly sucker-punched.

"Beware of Lamp? LAMP?! You _jackass_!" Stanton proclaimed, now in quite the huff indeed, "Do you realize how much trouble you could have saved me from if you would've just said _Lambert_?"

Malcolm sighed, he had already endured Hecate's bitch fit over it, he wasn't really in the mood for another one, "Look, I need your help because some little shit's attempting to make me fall in love with a hippy-!"

Malcolm was interrupted as there was another flash of _pink_ light. He shivered, "It's too late," he whispered dreadfully.

Stanton paused from his bitching while Serena paused from her drinking in order to watch as an eerie silhouette emerge from the rose colored haze.

It was short.

It was intimidating.

It had curly golden hair.

It was wearing a onesie with Dora the Explorer on it.

"Oh shit," hiccupped Serena, who was quickly making her way towards inebriated, "It's Ross again."

---

"It's alive, it's alive," muttered Adamantis sarcastically as Lambert emerged from the bathroom after three hours of primping. The Incinti member scrutinized his self-proclaimed best friend for life, "I suppose it'll pass."

Lambert, who had previously been wearing his black dress thing, was now the epitome of class and sophistication. His white hair had been combed and greased back, with a pencil thin mustache drawn onto his face. The dress thing was replaced with a red velour bathrobe, complete with a freshly pressed cravat that tucked into the tie. Underneath the robe was a three piece Armani, which still had an ink tag on the sleeve, but that was besides the point. The outfit was complete with a pair of matching velour gentlemen's slippers.

"I feel like a complete tool," he said dryly, birling the wine goblet in his hand that was actually full of Hawaiian Punch, because that stuff just tastes better.

While Lambert was undergoing his makeover, Adamantis had taken the opportunity to upgrade his bachelor pad. Gone were the posters of eighties pop bands, replaced with framed black and white glamour shots of himself (Adamantis, that is. He still found Lambert's face too unseemly to ever pass as art). The shag carpet was replaced with a bearskin rug, which rested before a crackling fireplace that just sort of appeared there in a fully functional way.

"This is supposed to woo her?" Lambert asked, not really believing his BFF, who could be a bit of a pretentious ass sometimes.

Adamantis simply clapped his hands, and Barry White started playing in the air, "The only other way to ensure a seduction is to wear a paper bag over your head."

Lambert frowned, not liking the repetitive jabs at his deviously handsome face, "Now, you may be my BFF, but you're starting to be a real jerk!" There, he had finally said it.

Adamantis shrugged, "I couldn't care in the slightest. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a very upset Regulator to go yachting with."

With that, Adamantis clapped his hands again, and disappeared in a flash of light.

Lambert scowled, "This had better work or I'm going to ice your nancy ass," he muttered under his breath before he made his way to his address book, intent on arranging a meeting.

There was no chance Jimena could resist his sexual appeal when he had Barry White on his side.


	6. Lady Softness

AN: _Moonlight_ update next, me promise!!

**Chapter Six: Lady Softness**

"You fiend!" cried the fair Lady Jimena, the back of her hand resting daintily on her forehead as she swooned, "You absolute fiend!"

"Perhaps," Lambert crooned, bringing an arm to wrap around his ladyship's girlish waist, her skirts fluttering as he bowed her down in what looked like the ending move of a tango, "But admit it, my dear, you desire it so."

"No, no I mustn't!" She protested weakly, "I'm a goddess, and you're so despicable and uncouth-"

"Darling, not even your eyes can deny my dark desire," Lambert said, "From the moment I unsheathed my sword you were completely powerless-"

Lady Jimena made a weak attempt to push him away, her low-cut bodice drawing attention to certain attributes as she did so, "No mere mortal can deny your malevolent charms. From your obsidian eyes to your well muscled torso, you are the living embodiment of Adonis! But, lo, this does not mean that I cannot resist you!"

Lambert let her go, and she twirled dramatically away, bracing herself against a pillar… dramatically.

"But, fair Lady Jimena, I know you wish for my sword in your sheathe!"

She gasped, pulling out a white lace doily and dabbing her neck with it, "But my lady-like softness surely cannot bear the sight of such a sword!"

"My beauty, you shall take it and like it!"

She finally surrendered, and Lambert put his antique weapon in the custom made sheathe that was an heirloom of Lady Jimena's family.

"There we are, now it won't rust," Lambert said matter-of-factly, hanging it on the wall before the phone started ringing.

---

Lambert woke up, blinking away sleep before he realized that he had passed out on the bear skin rug after a night of irresponsible Hawaiian Punch consumption, "Not even my sex dreams have sex in them…" he groaned, finally flipping open the phone, "Hello?"

"LAMBERT YOU WASTE OF OXYGEN, THE BOARD MEETING STARTED TEN MINUTES AGO-!"

Lambert rolled his eyes, hanging up the phone without a seconds' remorse, "Stupid Atrox," he mumbled, clutching the head of the stuffed polar bear before drifting off to sleep, hoping that Lady Jimena would reappear in his dreams…and that she'd be wearing that terribly low-cut bodice.

---

The Atrox growled in absolute fury as he chomped down on the end of a cigar, this was the tenth time he had called his number two number two (Stanton was his number one number two) and all he had gotten for an answer was a whiny 'Go Away!' and a dial tone.

"I must say, this is terribly irresponsible of my dear colleague," came a voice like chimes as Adamantis, his number three number two (one would wonder why he just didn't rank them sequentially, but this was the Atrox, supreme being of evil, and he was right at home with confusing organizational systems), leaned over his seat, his fingers steepled.

"_Terribly _irresponsible," came the fat Regulator to his side with a monocle, who the Atrox was pretty sure was his number 64 number two, and he wondered how the hell he had even gotten into this meeting.

"Surely he's aware of how important these board meetings are every fiscal quarter," Adamantis purred.

"_Surely,_" echoed the Regulator.

The Atrox frowned, noticing that his number one number two was suspiciously absent as well, "Adamantis?"

"Yes, my liege?"

"Go find my number two," he said crossly, "And then beat Lambert's ass."

"Of course, my master."

There was this long, stifling pause as Adamantis looked squarely at The Atrox, as if waiting for further orders. The fat Regulator to his side did the same.

"What?!"

"…_which _number two, my lord?"

---

Jimena swore as she hung up the phone. Where the hell was everyone? She had tried calling all of the Daughters of the Moon and so far she had not met any success. When she called Vanessa, she had only heard some muffled giggling and Barry White music. With Serena, some drunken babble about a little boy crying and a pantsless dead man. And Catty…a shudder raced down Jimena's spine when she thought about all the sordid things she had heard when she called Catty.

She sighed. She really could use some help with the Lambert problem. It had been _months_ since that creepy adventure involving Cupid, the love arrow should have run out by now. Yet it hadn't. He was threatening her boyfriend, her abuela said a creepy man stole her address book, and she was sure that he had gone as far as to kill an adorable kitten and leave it on her doorstep. Sicko.

Perhaps…perhaps she should channel Selene and use her own meditation to solve the problem. Maggie had always told her that most solutions come from within.

Taking a deep breath, Jimena settled into a meditative pose…

And was immediately surprised to see a blue hippy appear on her left.

"Holy shit!" Jimena swore, jerking out of her lotus position and nearly suffering a heart attack as she felt a breeze. Quickly, she looked at the figure next to her, recognizing the older looking woman with a kind smile and a pair of crocheting needles.

"Maggie?!" She exclaimed, certainly not expecting her long dead mentor to show up making tiny baby socks.

"Why hello my dear," she said calmly, the picture of serenity.

Jimena's eyes narrowed in suspicion, "I thought you were dead?"

"Oh, I am. Quite so," she said, finishing one of the little socks and immediately working on the other, "It was a most remarkable exit, if I say so myself. The Atrox was all 'blah blah blah' and I was all 'if you strike me down now I will only become more powerful than you ever imagined' and I dissolved into the Force-er, I mean pure energy."

Jimena felt a very stupid look crawl onto her face, "The _Atrox _said 'blah blah blah'?"

Maggie gave a delicate peal of laughter, looking over her successor from the ridge of her reading lenses, "Of course not. I was simply paraphrasing. He had his traditional, melodramatic diatribe that lasted forever. One could say he bored me to death." Another fit of giggles.

Jimena began to entertain the notion that dissolving into energy had left behind a lobe of Maggie's brain, "Um, why are you here?"

"Oh yes! I had plum forgotten!" Maggie said, setting down her baby socks and giving a level stare to Jimena, "I'm afraid there's going to be a spot of bother for you all-"

"A. Spot. Of. Bother?"

"Most certainly. As it turns out, Lambert Malmaris is quite besotted with you. Normally, a Follower being in love with a Daughter would be cause for great romance and angst spanning about thirteen or so books, but as it turns out, he is quite unattractive and therefore it goes against The Rules for him to have a romantic subplot," Maggie said gravely.

"Ugh, I _know._ The creep killed a kitten and left it on my doorstep."

"How unsettling."

"For sure."

Maggie frowned, "That, and the fact that another one of my Daughters is dancing the horizontal tango with a fuck ugly Follower-"

Jimena went a little green at not only hearing about Vanessa and Karyl doing it, but hearing it from the mouth of a tidy little grandmother figure.

"-I fear that our existence is in jeopardy. The Daughters of the Moon are in danger, Jimena. In danger of breeding hideous children and having relationships with total creepers." Maggie began to crochet again, far more nervously now.

Jimena frowned, "But…what should I _do_?"

"You must trust in the Force, er, powers of Selene. It is the only way. Follow your instincts, and do not stray down the dark path of the Followers."

"But what if I fail?"

"You cannot. Imagine a future Daughter of the Moon with Lambert's receding hairline."

Jimena nodded, feeling the heaviness of the situation for the first time, "Then I will try my best."

Maggie shook her head, finishing a scarf, "Do, or do not. There is no try."

Jimena's eyebrows furrowed, "…I'm pretty sure I've heard that pearl of wisdom before."

Maggie gave another giggle, "Oh, of course you haven't!"

"No, I meant that I had-"

"Anyways, you must protect the Daughters of the Moon from their own hormones," Maggie said with finality, "If you want, I shall accompany you in spirit on your quest to prevent the dark future from occurring."

"That'd be helpful," Jimena said softly, "I can't help but be a little afraid of Lambert-"

"Do not fear. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. Suffering leads to-"

"The Dark Side." She cut off, having seen this movie before.

Maggie blinked, owlishly and the silence stretched between them.

Jimena stared at her flatly, "That is what you were going to say, isn't it?"

Maggie coughed, "No it wasn't."

"I bet it was."

"I made a scarf for you!"

"…thank you."

"Don't want you to catch a cold, my dear."

And thus began the partnership of Jimena and the Jedi Master, er, Magna Mater in the quest to defeat the Unattractive Love Interests.

---

Catty gave a rather irritated huff as she lounged about on her dad's easy chair, absolutely hating the first twenty minutes of her bimonthly visit. Nefandus was such a _drag_, there was nothing to do except be nefarious and wear terrible outfits and any eye candy usually had chunks falling off them.

Not only that, but her dad was at a board meeting. She had a father that was one of the most evil creatures known to man, yet he still managed to spend all his time in the office like every other dad on the planet. She huffed, crossing her arms. She was almost eager to get back home, where her granola mother and her harem of boy toys would at least make things a little more interesting-

The door opened, and Catty straightened in her seat.

In walked her father, Adamantis, followed closely by one of his Regulator lackeys that Catty hated because they were _so _uncute. This one had a handlebar mustache.

"Hey Adamantis," she said in the typical apathetic teenager voice, picking at her nails.

Adamantis finished hanging up his cloak on a short servant, "Atetra? What are you doing here?"

"Catty," she corrected for the millionth time. GOD did her parents have terrible taste to name her Atetra Adamantis. She shuddered, that was almost as bad as being called Malevolent Dazzle or Sinister Sheen. Hello bad eighties hair band.

"Do not take that tone of voice with me, young lady."

Catty scowled, "I'll take whatever tone of voice with you I want!"

"I am your father-!"

She stood up, "THE DAY I CALL YOU FATHER IS THE DAY I DIE!"

Adamantis rolled his eyes. Children today, "Honestly, Atetra, neither of us wants to be in this predicament. If I would have known that screwing your mother sideways would have-"

Catty turned green, "Oh my _god_, you did not just say that about my _mother_!"

Adamantis shot her a level look, "And I'm to assume that you have innocent virgin ears?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you dress like a harlot. Put on the damn robe Reginald sewed for you with his own sausage resembling fingers."

"That robe is tacky!"

Reginald gasped. He may not have a heart but he did have feelings.

"Oh, excuse me. I wasn't aware that being coated in body glitter was haute-couture."

"Oh my god, you totally don't get it! I'm an ARTIST, dad. Those are ARTISTIC!"

Adamantis snorted, "Truly? I must look at all of my Rembrandt paintings for teenagers in mini skirts."

"You are such a pretentious prick!"

Adamantis merely rose one eyebrow, "…and?"

"Guh! You so don't understand me!" Catty cried, running towards the exit.

Adamantis sighed, adopting a deadpan tone, "My darling, wherever are you going?"

"I'm RUNNING AWAY dickmunch!" She shrilled, before slamming the door, deciding that the noise wasn't loud enough, and reslamming it before vanishing into the darkness.

"Oh please, don't deprive me of your ever so charming personality," Adamantis protested…in a terribly sarcastic manner.

After a few moments, Adamantis exhaled a heavy breath, "Reginald, whatever is that smell?"

"Sorrow, milord, with a dash of teen angst and a hearty dose of paternal resentment," Reginald said cheerfully.

"Ah," Adamantis said, wafting the air in front of him, "Delicious."

He sighed, "Well, I suppose you better send someone after her, or something."

Reginald saluted, "Of course milord."

"Wonderful. I shall be searching for that blond headed fool."

Reginald squinted, there were an awful lot of blond fools in the Followers.

"Stanton." Adamantis clarified, and a darkened aura covered his face, "And I shall destroy him and Lambert, making me next in line for the throne."

"Mauwhauwhauhwa," Reginald chortled.

Adamantis looked at him, a sneer on his face, "What on earth was that?"

"…maniacal laughter, milord?"

"How sentimental of you."


End file.
